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I can’t contain myself, lying here beneath him and drooling all over myself at the sight of him. I sit up and bring my face to his gorgeous body, ravishing it with kisses, admiring his perfect form.
My hands slide down his muscled backside and come to rest at the top of his ass. I’m reminded all over again what a pert, solid butt Benjamin is packing. It makes me want to cry that such a gorgeous work of art exists in this world.
Call me dramatic, but Benjamin’s ass really is that epic.
“Back down, babe,” he instructs me. “I’m not done with you.”
“Maybe I’m not done with you,” I counter, then take his nipple between my teeth and bite it, giving him a taste of the torment he’s given me.
He grunts, then groans, then lets out a sigh of delight. He looks down at me with a warning in his eyes.
I grin victoriously up at him, then let go of his nipple.
“Down, boy,” he commands.
I’m on my back in an instant, looking up at my beautiful man, who is now just in his underwear. He is hard—very hard, from the look of it.
With my legs spread, Ben sweeps a hand under each of my thighs, then lifts me, bringing his hips to my ass. I grind against him, desperate to know what he feels like inside me. He growls in response, likely eager for the same thing.
I’ve never been more ready for something in my life.
From the pants he just took off, he fetches something from the pocket. A condom. He tears it open almost gently, the wrapper flung to the side, and then he slips the condom into his underwear, rolling it onto his cock.
My eyes follow his every move. “Is your cock shy?” I tease.
“Not in the least,” he answers, pulling the waistband of his underwear down. His cock is unleashed like a beast. Every swollen inch of it is throbbing—and it’s throbbing for my ass.
I breathe deeply, my heart racing so fast.
He produces the lube again, except this time I watch as he lets some out onto his length, then strokes it really slow, his biceps swelling and dancing in the effort.
My mouth is hanging open. I’m literally drooling.
“It’s … It’s so … big,” I breathe, unsure if the observation is in fear or excitement.
Ben almost laughs at that, his smile spreading and showing teeth. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. I’m going to treat you right.”
His tip touches my hole.
My eyes flash, overwhelmed at once.
Benjamin’s cock is so thick, but it’s slippery. My hole is just as slick and inviting, the marriage of the two feeling so perfect and wet and primed—and he hasn’t even entered me yet.
He leans forward, putting one hand in the blanket to brace himself and bringing the other to my face, caressing my flushing cheek. “I’ll go slow.”
“At first,” I grunt back.
His tip slips inside almost accidentally.
I gasp at the sensation of being invaded. It scares me for only a split second before my body adjusts. I’m ever thankful that his fingers did a lot of the work of relaxing my muscles down there. It almost seems easy at first, letting him in.
And then he presses a bit more.
Pressure builds up down there. I clench shut my eyes.
“Slowly,” he murmurs into my ear, watching every single emotion crackle and flick and brush across my face like changing weather patterns. “The moment you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg him, still curious, still wanting it. “Please don’t stop.”
He grins, then pushes some more.
Something gives, something that makes my jaw drop and my insides shiver with desire. I have no idea how much of him just slipped inside me, but it feels like his whole length.
“How much is in?” I ask between jagged breaths.
“Just an inch or so past the tip,” he answers.
I gawk at him. Just an inch??
“More,” I beg him, reaching to grip his backside to encourage him farther in. “More, more.”
“Slow, babe. Slow. I’m not going to hurt you, even if you want me to.”
Gently, he starts to pump me—the inch sliding out, sliding in. When he pushes back inside me, he goes slightly deeper, then out. Back in even deeper, then out. He forms a rhythm that my body quickly adapts to, rocking with him.
It’s like a dance that’s so natural, I didn’t need lessons. Our own bodies choreograph every careful movement, gliding and shifting and swaying in perfect unison. Even our groans align.
He pushes even deeper with each thrust, and soon I start to feel mounting pressure inside me, pressure that I have never felt before. Is he hitting my prostate? Is that what this feels like?
Would I even know?
“Ben, how deep?” I ask, out of breath, my eyes half closed.
“Almost all the way, babe. You’re taking it like a champ.”
